


Fragile Things

by girl_next_door_writes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 09:52:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16870777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girl_next_door_writes/pseuds/girl_next_door_writes
Summary: Your relationship with Sam is going through a decidedly rocky patch.  Is it time to call it quits or is there something here worth saving?





	Fragile Things

The door to the bunker flung open. Dean and Cas looked up in time to see a clearly irate Sam storming down the steps followed by you rolling your eyes. “Why do you always have to be such a fucking drama queen?” you grumbled, earning yourself a glare from the younger Winchester. 

These moments were becoming more and more frequent lately, and as Dean watched the scene unfold in front of him, he wondered how you two had got to this point. You always seemed so together; his brother adored you. Hell, he was even a little jealous of the relationship. 

“It’s not me causing the drama here, sweetheart.” Sam spat, his fists clenching.

“Oh, come on. It’s not my fault that the waiter slipped me his number! It’s not like I was gonna call him or anything, didn’t even pick it up!” you threw back at him in disbelief.

“Whatever.” He huffed, turning his back on you and stalking towards the kitchen.

“Sure, why don’t you just have another beer then!” you yelled after him. “Because that always improves the situation.”

“Why do you have to be such a goddamned bitch?” he turned and looked at you with such disgust and Dean frowned, getting to his feet. This was getting out of hand, and as Castiel shifted in his chair, a little embarrassed to be witnessing this dometic, you stood your ground. Your jaw tightened, and you glared at Sam, not giving a shit about the other people in the room. He wanted to play the ‘who can hurt the other more’ game then bring it on.

“Maybe I picked the wrong brother. Dean is hotter and not as much of a dick.” The hurt in his eyes told you that was a direct hit. The comment was childish but so was his behaviour. He took a step towards you, and for a fraction of a second, you thought he was going to hit you. Probably sensing the same, Dean stepped between the pair of you, giving his brother a warning look which had Sam giving an aggressive huff and storming out of the room.

“Whatever is going on with the two of you, don’t bring me into it, sweetheart.” Dean looked at you with a mixture of concern and frustration.

“Duly noted.“ You sighed. The fight had drained out of you, leaving that empty feeling that had been slowly becoming normal to you. Turning on your heels, you headed back up the steps, not wanting to be in the same space as your boyfriend right now. The whole bunker had started to feel claustrophobic recently, and Sam’s turbulent emotional state only compounded your desire to run.

Your relationship was hanging by a thread, and you both knew it. Although there was no defining moment where things shifted there was no denying that it had. Sam was cold towards you more often than not, and that hurt spilled out in stupid comments you knew would provoke an argument but at least when he was angry at you he was communicating, kind of. 

Sam woke early, turning and seeing your side of the bed still empty. Rolling onto his back, he let out a sigh. It wasn’t supposed to be this difficult, was it? He loved you. Didn’t he? Things had been getting on top of him lately, the nightmares and anxiety raising their heads again but he couldn’t tell you that, he was supposed to be the strong one. Figuring you must have crashed in one of the other rooms, he made his way to get some breakfast.

The sight of you sprawled on the sofa made him pause. You looked so pasty, an empty bottle of whiskey lay on the floor by your hand, and his heart ached. He knew this was his doing and he was just about to wrap a blanket over you when he noticed the rather large puddle of vomit, in the middle of which were his new running trainers. Closing his eyes, he counted very slowly to fifty, irritation bubbling through him. His trademark bitch face made an appearance, and he threw the blanket onto the armchair, leaving you to shiver.

As he walked into the kitchen he was muttering to himself, “I cannot be bothered with this, she can stay there for all I care, freeze if she wants…”

“Hello, Sam.” Castiel tilted his head and looked at his friend curiously. “Are you arguing again? She did not mean what she said about Dean. She has told me previously that Dean is more of a dick than you.”

"She’s asleep, and we aren’t arguing,” Sam said curtly as he busied himself making coffee.

“Then why are you angry? You are angry a lot of the time recently. She thinks it is her fault, that she did something.” Castiel moved a little closer, this shift in the dynamics of your relationship confused him.

“She threw up on my trainers, Cas. I can’t even go for a run this morning.” Sam could feel his body getting tense again. She used to make things better but now all they did was argue and he was so tired. Tired of the fighting, tired of the hurt. 

“Is she sick?” Cas turned, preparing to go and heal if needed.

“Self-inflicted.” The slam of the coffee mug on the counter made Castiel turn and look at Sam with a frown. 

“And you are not caring for her? I may not know much about human emotions, at least not as much as you, but I do know that love is a fragile thing, and humans are not always best at taking care of it. I think you just have to muddle through, do the best you can and just hope that, against all the odds, it survives.” Sam looked up at Cas, allowing his words to wash over him. 

Grabbing a second mug, Sam made two cups of coffee and headed back in your direction only to be surprised to see the sofa now vacant. Thinking perhaps you had gone for a shower he headed back to his room only to find you there throwing your things into a holdall. “I brought you coffee.” He said softly and saw your shoulders slump.

“I don’t want to do this anymore, Sam.” Your voice was so quiet and broken it made his breath catch. Placing the mugs down on the dresser he carefully crossed the room to you.

“You don’t want to fight, or you don’t want to be with me?“ he asked nervously, his lower lip trembling as he feared your answer.

"We can’t keep doing this to each other. You freeze me out, and I start an argument and…”

“Wait? What?” Sam turned you to face him, his eyes searching yours. “You’ve been starting these arguments because… because…”

“Because it was the only way you would talk to me. Do you realise we went a whole week without you saying a single word to me?” your eyes were shining with unshed tears and he couldn’t hold back any longer, wrapping his arms around you and holding you so close as if he feared you would run if he didn’t keep a tight hold on you. 

“I am so sorry. Both our hearts are breaking right now, and it’s all my fault.” He whispered into your hair.

“I think it’s a joint effort, can’t have you taking all the credit.” You looked up, giving him a sad smile. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” Sam’s voice was soft as he brushed your hair from your face. 

“I love you, Sammy, but I can’t keep tearing strips off each other. At some point, one of us is gonna say something the other can’t forgive. I don’t want us to get to that point.”

“Me neither. Someone told me recently that love is fragile. And we’re not always it’s best caretakers. We just muddle through and do the best we can. And hope this fragile thing survives against all odds. I want this to survive. Please. Stay and muddle through with me?” he looked at you with hope and trepidation. Perhaps things were too broken, maybe he was too broken.

“I will stay as long as you keep talking to me.” Your eyes met his and all the hurt, all the sharp words and the childish bickering seemed to melt away. You loved him, and he loved you, with a bit of work maybe this could survive.

When Dean emerged from his room, there was a sense of peace in the bunker, the feeling you get after a thunderstorm. Making his way to grab something to eat he noticed you and his brother lounging on the sofa together, reading one of those Harry Potter books you both liked. Your limbs were all tangled, and Sam held the book so you could both see it, soft smiles were on your faces, and every so often Sam would lean down and place a kiss to the top of your head as you snuggled into him a little more. Dean smiled to himself and quietly made his way through, not wanting to disturb you now everything was back to how it should be.


End file.
